


Simon vs. the Pancake Agenda

by EvensDramaticShenanigans



Series: Spierfeld Week [1]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Banter, Flirting, M/M, Pancakes, Pancakes v. Waffles Debate, Spierfeld Week, Waffles, i cant tag to save my life, my tags are awful, waiter!Bram
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 18:11:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14266719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvensDramaticShenanigans/pseuds/EvensDramaticShenanigans
Summary: “I just can’t agree with you there, Leah. Waffles are sweet and crunchy and just cute and organized with their little pockets— what’s not to love about that?”A new laugh catches Simon’s attention and his head whips to the side to see Bram approaching their table, the tray in hand even fuller than before now that it’s holding four platters of food. “You make a compelling argument,” Bram says, grinning wide. “But, I have to disagree with you there, Simon,” he finishes and starts setting everyone’s food in front of them.Or, the one with the Pancakes vs. Waffles debate





	Simon vs. the Pancake Agenda

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii! Happy Spierfeld Week!! 
> 
> I am so so sooo excited for this! I've been thinking about it since the prompt list was released and I'm so excited to finally be able to write all these fics and share them! This was the only one for the week I have finished so far so I'm going to be veryyyy busy writing haha. I have a plan for almost every day so hopefully I can deliver!! 
> 
> Today's prompt was Alternate First Meeting and I found this idea and fell in love, thus this was born. And as soon as this is posted I'm starting on tomorrow's prompt! 
> 
> This is unbetaed so all mistakes are completely my own. The title is terribly uncreative, but I thought it fit well with the plot and I couldn't think of anything better so I just went with it lol. 
> 
>  
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy!

Simon likes to think that he isn’t the kind of guy who thinks that every boy that looks at him or sends a polite smile his way has a thing for him, but… he totally is that kind of guy.

It happens with the cashiers at Publix. It happens with the strangers whose eyes he happens to catch while walking down the street. And now, it’s happening right here at Waffle House.

He slides into the booth after Leah and sheds his coat immediately, settling into the plastic bench his butt has grown to love after years of weekly Waffle House visits. Suddenly a menu slides into his line of view and Simon takes it, twisting his head to the side so he can properly thank the waiter— except the second his eyes land on him, all words die in his throat. 

He’s staring— he knows he is, but he just can’t help it. Their waiter is, like, insanely freaking cute, and the way he smiles pleasantly at Simon as he makes eye contact is just doing  _ things _ to Simon’s insides. Leah has to elbow him not-so-subtly in the ribs before he finally snaps out of it and flashes the waiter a weak smile and mumbles a quick, quiet ‘thank you.’ 

“Hi, welcome to Waffle House. My name’s Bram and I’m going to be your server for the evening. Can I get you all started off with anything to drink?” Their waiter— Bram— asks after he finishes passing menus to the rest of the table. His gaze flickers around the table and when it finally lands on Simon, it stays there for a beat longer than considered socially acceptable. There’s another hint of a smile at the corners of his lips, and Simon has to bite back his own. His cheeks are already starting to feel warmer than usual, and it’s not because of the Georgia heat.

“Can I get a glass of milk, please?” Abby asks. Nick and Leah chime in with their own drink orders, and Leah has to elbow Simon again to get his attention. He’s too busy staring down at his lap in embarrassment to realize that Bram was waiting on his order.

“Oh, uh, milk’s fine for me too,” he says, nodding. He looks back up at Bram briefly before letting his eyes drop back down to his lap.

“Great,” Bram replies, tapping the end of his pen against the notepad in his hand. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.” And then he’s turning away from the table and heading back towards the kitchen to fill their drink orders. 

As soon as his back is turned and he’s gotten a few feet away, Simon deflates in the seat, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. He lets out a quiet groan. Beside him Leah laughs. 

“Oh my god, Si. I know he’s cute but, god, I’ve never seen you  _ that _ flustered around someone,” she grins, pushing lightly at his arm. 

Simon shakes his head and wipes his hand down his face. “I have no idea what the fuck that was,” he breathes and lets out a small chuckle. 

Abby reaches across the table to touch Simon’s arm. “He was giving you the eyes, Simon,” she informs, waggling her eyebrows and sending him a cheeky grin. 

A laugh slips past Simons lips and his cheeks turn even more pink.

“You should try to talk to him,” Nick adds, much to Simon’s amusement. Because, did Nick not know him? Was he unaware of how painfully awkward Simon was when it came to flirting? He’d been there when Simon had unskillfully flirted his way into Carys Seward’s heart last spring—  _ that _ had been a painful thing to watch, Simon was sure. And if that was painful— him flirting with someone he wasn’t even that interested in— then god, he can only imagine how disastrous he’ll be flirting with someone he actually  _ is _ interested in.

“Oh, come on, Simon,” Nick laughs. “I see the cogs turning in your brain. It can’t go as bad as you’re probably imagining it could right now.” 

Simon shrugs. “You don’t know that,” he replies, tilting his head a bit and righting himself in his seat so he’s not slouched over anymore. Maybe Cute Waiter Bram likes boys that sit up straight.

Leah rolls her eyes. “Si, it really won’t be that bad. But if you insist, I suggest you just keep sending him those cute, shy smiles,” she advises. 

A surprised expression crosses over Simon’s face and he turns to look at Leah, but before he can say anything she just laughs and pats his arm. “Yeah, I saw them. You’re not subtle— which is probably a good thing in this case. Then Bram will pick up on it too.” Leah wiggles her eyebrows at Simon.

“Alright,” Bram’s voice suddenly filters into Simon’s ear, and his eyes widen briefly before he schools his features and faces forward again. He chances a glance to his right and he sees that Bram is already smiling at him. Simon takes Leah’s advice and sends one back— after all, this is the only way he can flirt without opening his mouth and making a fool of himself. 

“Here are your drinks,” Bram says. He’s balancing a tray on the flat of his hand, and Simon watches as he skillfully steadies the tray each time he removes a glass and places it on the table in front of the person it belongs to. Once the tray is empty he tucks it underneath his bicep and Simon can’t tear his eyes away for a good few seconds.

He’s finally brought back to reality by Bram’s smooth voice again. “Is everyone ready to order now?” He asks, glancing around the table. He pulls the notepad and pen from the pocket of his apron and when he looks back up his gaze falls right to Simon.

Simon feels his cheeks warm again, and he quickly breaks the eye contact before he somehow gives himself away through his eyes. He looks down at the menu and feigns that he’s looking for his order to read off even though he’s been here so many times and has ordered the exact same thing that a menu is pretty much unnecessary. “Um, can I get the chocolate chip waffles, please,” he recites then folds the menu shut.

“You’ve got it,” Bram replies before jotting Simon’s order down. His eyes linger on Simon for a moment before they drag past him and land on Leah, who rattles off her complicated order of the ‘Waffle House Breakfast but with an extra pancake instead of the waffle, hash browns instead of the meat, and normal butter instead of cranberry butter.’

Nick orders his usual, the All Stars Special, and Abby adds on her order of chocolate chip waffles as well— making sure to not-so-subtly name drop Simon when she does. Then they’re all passing their menus to Simon so he can hand them off to Bram— which, nice. He sees what they’re all doing here. 

Bram finishes scribbling down their orders and then reads it back to them, earning a confirming nod from the whole table before he’s tucking the pad and pen back into his apron. Then he catches Simon’s eye and Simon holds out the menus for him to take. When Bram reaches out to grab them, their fingers brush and it sends something electric down Simon’s spine.

“Great, I’ll go put your orders in and they’ll be out soon,” Bram informs. He flashes his teeth towards the table— specifically Simon— and then turns on his heel and heads towards the kitchen. 

“Leah,” Nick starts, folding his hands on top of the table. “How can you come to  _ Waffle House _ and order  _ pancakes _ ?” He fixes a curious expression on her as he waits for her response.

Leah rolls her eyes at Nick and shoots him an unimpressed look. “Well, they don’t serve crepes here and pancakes are the closest thing,” she explains, offering a shrug. 

“Oh my god, Leah, do you not like waffles or something?” Abby chimes in, surprise painting her features. 

“I don’t  _ dislike _ them or anything,” Leah answers, shrugging. “I just think that crepes— and pancakes— are better.” 

“How?” Simon questions, turning to Leah. “We’ve been coming to Waffle House every weekend for years— how can you not like waffles best?”

Leah snorts. “Si, just because we come here every weekend doesn’t mean waffles are superior. I bet if I asked us to go to IHOP instead you and Nick would throw a fit,” she points out.

Nick lets out an indignant squawk and throws his hands up. “We would not,” he scoffs, shaking his head.

“Great, then next weekend we’re going to go to IHOP. That way you can finally see the error of your ways and realize that pancakes are indeed much better than waffles.”

Simon lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Leah,” he starts. “Leah, Leah, Leah. My dear, sweet, naïve Leah.” He wraps an arm around Leah’s shoulder and pulls her into his side. “You are  _ so _ wrong. Waffles are, and always will be, the best breakfast food— far more superior to pancakes. And there is nothing you can say or do to change my mind.”

“Simon, pancakes are literally better in every single way,” Abby adds, and Leah smiles at that, reaching over to high five her. “Name one way waffles are better than pancakes,” she challenges, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Easy,” Simon responds, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “Waffles have the best invention ever— syrup pockets. Do you see pancakes with perfect little pockets? No, I don’t think so. The syrup just gets everywhere.” 

“No way!” Abby shouts back. “The syrup dripping everywhere is the best part! You just pile it up on top and watch it trickle down the sides and pool at the bottom, and then you just slide the pancake through it and it soaks it all up perfectly.”

Nick shakes his head. “Nah, I have to agree with Simon. Syrup pockets are the best,” he replies.

“The pockets get in the way. How do you spread butter or nutella or anything on your waffle when there’s craters all over it?” Leah asks. “Oh, right, you can’t.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Simon argues. “You can still spread stuff on a waffle. You’re just not good at it.” 

“I just don’t get how you don’t like pancakes, Si,” Leah shakes her head. “They’re just so fluffy and smooth and delicious.” 

Simon throws his hands up in defense. “Waffles are even more delicious. And they’re crunchy and soft— the best of both worlds!” 

Leah scrunches up her nose. “The only breakfast foods that should be crunchy are cereal and bacon,” she responds, earning a scoff from both Simon and Nick. 

“I just can’t agree with you there, Leah. Waffles are sweet and crunchy and just cute and organized with their little pockets— what’s not to love about that?”

A new laugh catches Simon’s attention and his head whips to the side to see Bram approaching their table, the tray in hand even fuller than before now that it’s holding four platters of food. “You make a compelling argument,” Bram says, grinning wide. “But, I have to disagree with you there, Simon,” he finishes and starts setting everyone’s food in front of them.

Simon nearly shuts down right then and there at the sound of his name falling past Bram’s lips. “How, uh. You know my name?” He manages to choke out, surprise and confusion covering his face as he looks at Bram. 

Bram laughs softly and places Simon’s plate of waffles in front of him. “Your friend said it earlier,” he clarifies, nodding towards Abby, who’s smiling ever so sweetly back at Simon. She wiggles her fingers in an innocent wave and then mouths, ‘you’re welcome’ when Bram isn’t looking. “It is Simon, right?” He asks just to be sure.  

Simon nods. “Yep, that’s me. Simon. I’m Simon. Simple Simon,” he rambles, shooting off finger guns at Bram. Simon can feel the way his entire body is flushing now, and he’s sure his cheeks are redder than the ketchup Nick is currently squirting onto his eggs— which, ew. Holy freaking god, who let him open his mouth? And why isn’t anyone stopping him?

He glances at his friends, his eyes wide and silently screaming for help, but Leah just stifles a laugh into her palm next to him, and Simon can see Abby burying her face into Nick’s shoulder across from him. Traitors.

Brams laughs softly and the smile on his face is blinding. “Simple Simon, I like it,” he says. “I’m Bram,” he points at the little nametag pinned to his shirt, “and I already told you that earlier, but,” he trails off and shrugs cutely. 

Simon nods and smiles at him. He kind of just sits there for a second, both unsure of what to say next and hesitant to even say anything based on his previous embarrassment. 

Thankfully, Abby steps in to help. “So, Bram,” she starts. “Are you a waffle kind of guy or a pancake man?” 

Bram glances around the restaurant before grabbing onto one of the chairs from a neighboring table. He pulls it up the end of the booth and sits himself down in it. “It’s pretty empty in here, and this is the kind of serious conversation you have to sit down for,” he jokes. He looks over at Simon and sends him an apologetic glance. “I hate to rain on your waffle parade and everything, but I’ve got to go with pancakes here.”

Abby and Leah let out a cheer, and Simon groans, letting his head drop back against the booth. “No, not you too!” He cries, covering his face with his hands. 

Bram chuckles at Simon’s antics, and Simon lets his hands slide down his face just enough that he can peek at Bram through his fingers. He can’t help the huge smile that spreads across his lips as his eyes connect with Bram’s. 

“You’re right that the syrup pockets are a nice feature,” Bram relents. “But that’s the only good thing they’ve got going for them,” he shrugs. 

“That’s a pretty brave thing to say in a Waffle House,” Simon comments, sending Bram an impressed look. “I sure hope your boss doesn’t overhear you saying that,” he teases.

Bram laughs, hearty and big and full-bodied. It shakes his shoulders and scrunches up his face in the most adorable way. Simon’s absolutely enamored. He could probably listen to Bram laugh all day long and never get bored of hearing that sound. “You’re right, I probably shouldn’t be trashing waffles in Waffle House,” he shrugs, “but they’re just not as good as pancakes are.”

“Oh my god, a true icon over here, ladies and gentlemen,” Abby announces, gesturing towards Bram. 

“Not only do pancakes taste better,” Bram continues, the cute grin still covering his face, “but you can be a lot more creative with them.”

“Oh yeah!” Abby agrees. “I’ve seen so many of those videos of people making cool designs out of pancake batter.”

“Oh, I saw one of those where someone made Harry Potter,” Leah adds, nudging Simon. “It had the scar and glasses and everything— it was the coolest!”

Simon rolls his eyes, but before he can try to argue that Abby’s talking again. “You can’t do that with a waffle can you?” She smirks and looks between Nick and Simon. 

Nick holds for about five seconds before he folds and shrugs. “I mean, that is pretty cool,” he admits. 

“Nick, come on!” Simon objects. “Syrup pockets!” he reminds, directing his hands at the waffle on the plate in front of him. 

“Oh, okay, I’ve got another thing wrong with waffles,” Bram says, drawing the attention back towards him. “The waffle irons are an absolute pain in the ass to clean. The waffle batter just gets stuck everywhere and no matter how much you scrub at it, it just doesn’t come off. With pancakes you just have to flip them in a pan.” 

“Oh my god, I didn’t even think of that,” Leah exclaims, shaking her head.

“You’ve got so many good points,” Abby adds. “I love this guy. Can we keep him?” She asks, a devilish grin on her face as she looks towards Simon.

Simon flushes at the insinuation and busies himself with taking a bite of his waffle. 

 

Their conversation continues on in much of the same manner: passionately shouting arguement after argument back and forth between bites of their meals. It’s all laughs and smiles around the table as they playfully fight over which breakfast staple is truly the best.

Eventually, Bram has to get back to work and he leaves the table with a big smile in Simon’s direction. 

Once he’s gone Leah nudges Simon in the ribs and leans close so she can whisper to him. “Si, I swear to god, if you don’t ask for his number or something…” she trails off, leaving the threat empty. The sentiment still stands though, and Simon flushes under the expectant looks from his friends. 

“You should go pay the bill for us, Simon,” Nick suggests, smirking wickedly at Simon. 

Simon scoffs. “Oh nice, you want me to talk to Cute Bram but I have to pay too?” He shakes his head and starts to pull his wallet out from his pocket. “You all owe me big time,” he says, pointing his wallet around the table. 

“When you get Cute Bram’s number then we’ll talk about who owes who,” Abby replies, folding her arms over her chest as she gives Simon a pointed look.

And well. She’s got a point. He’d pay any day if it meant he got to talk to Bram for even a few more minutes. Despite the fact that he sat with them for nearly an hour, it still isn’t nearly enough time. 

They all shuffle out of the booth and make their way towards the register. Bram walks out of the kitchen a moment later and spots them and starts to make his way over. “Ready to pay?” He asks brightly, tapping a few things on the screen in front of him— presumably bringing up their tab so it can be paid off. 

“Simon’s covering it, why don’t we go wait in the car— we don’t need to sit and watch him pay,” Abby pipes up a second later, slinging her arms around the back of Nick and Leah’s necks. She flashes Simon a sly grin and then the three of them are walking out the door and towards Simon’s car. 

Simon turns towards Bram, his stomach flopping nervously when he sees that Bram’s eyes are already on him. There’s a small smile on his lips, and Simon’s suddenly very aware of how alone they are in here. It’s pretty late so there aren’t many patrons, but the few that are here are tucked away in the far corner. 

“How was your meal?” Bram asks as Simon hands him his credit card to pay for the meal.

“Oh, yeah, it was great. Really great,” Simon responds, nodding eagerly. “The waffles were, just, awesome. As always, of course.” 

Bram laughs softly and swipes the card through the machine. “That’s good to hear,” he says. “You know, it’s a shame you love waffles so much. You’re pretty cute,” Bram adds, catching Simon completely off guard.

He totally absolutely wasn’t expecting such forward flirting from Bram— not that he’s complaining. A surprised chuckle slips past his lips and he can’t stop his cheeks from coloring.

“You’re pretty cute too,” Simon responds, ducking his head at the comment. “But the whole pancake thing is kind of a deal breaker,” he teases, channeling his inner stage presence to help with his confidence. 

Bram laughs. “Well, I bet I could make you a stack of pancakes so good they’ll change your mind completely.”

Simon lifts his eyebrows. “Oh? Are you… are you offering to cook for me?” He asks. “Like… like a date?”

Bram bites down on his lip and his eyes find Simon’s. He nods— a small tip of his head, but Simon doesn’t miss it. He couldn’t if he tried. “Like a date,” Bram confirms. 

“I’d, uh, I’d really like that,” Simon responds, his lips curving into a soft smile for Bram and only Bram. 

“Me too,” Bram says sweetly. 

 

When Simon opens the door to his car and slides into the driver’s seat he’s met with three expectant looks. 

“Well?” Abby asks.

“How’d it go?” Nick questions.

“Please tell me something happened in there,” Leah says.

Simon’s smile grows so big he swears his face is going to crack in two. He rolls up his sleeve and sticks out his arm, showing off the seven digits written neatly in pen across his forearm.

“Oh my god, you got his number!” Abby squealed, practically bouncing in her seat. 

“I did,” Simon confirms, biting his lip. “And he promised to cook me pancakes.” 

“Pancakes?” Leah repeats, surprise coloring her voice.

Simon nods. “Pancakes.”

“Damn, he’s already got you convinced,” Nick laughs. 

Simon rolls his eyes and pushes his sleeve back down before starting the car. 

“Turning you to the pancake side? Man, this boy is going to be so good for you,” Abby grins.

And as Simon backs out of the parking space and starts the drive home, he can’t help but smile softly to himself and think that yeah, this boy  _ is _ going to be good for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought with a kudos or a comment! 
> 
>  
> 
> Come say [hi](http://evensdramaticshenanigans.tumblr.com/)! :)


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